I brainwashed myself to believe success was everything — I was wrong.
It doesn’t matter if you have everything in the world if when you look over your shoulder to see no one rooting for you. Doing something for yourself after a while simply is no longer satisfying, as we already do tasks without reaping any benefits. Where’s the difference between accomplishing something versus mundane activities? It all feels the same, almost as if I injected myself with anesthesia.
It is a pleasure to receive praise yet its value depreciates when there’s nothing but yourself to be proud of. The mirror doesn’t lie, even when people glance into your eyes they can see how empty everything becomes like looking through glass.
Your success lacks substance, worthiness and value.
The absence of others having the same aspirations stabs you when you realise there isn’t a mirrored energy, so instead you feel an abyss of emptiness. This planned idea crashed when you honed all the attention to yourself and the mood went from what was memorable, to enraging by casting light on your solitude. It seems the candle of isolation burns more intensely than of achievement with only your shadow in the room to comfort the shame in your soul.
Your success are outshone by your incompatibility to foster meaningful relations that would have been reassuring in times like these. Even if you decide to share this speciality, who would care deeply enough about it anyway if you are still alone and half-nihilistic because of it?
It leaves you questioning why you worked so hard only to suffer in the moment of glory from the depths of patronisation. You’d rather forget this even existed instead of making an effort with work or celebrating.
Your achievements gather dust quicker as you lose the motivation to bother polishing them and this reflects your efforts to form and maintain meaningful bonds.
You collapse into a pool of materialism and a well-fed ego but suddenly become painfully aware after falling into a trans of hope, waking up to the reality of despair you live in. Considering if there is any point in attempting the next milestone feels just as soul-crushing as that harsh awakening.
Why work meticulously without something joyous and profound at the finish line that makes you appreciate others who helped you? Your trophies and success already neglect you just like a puppet when needed and tossed away once the show’s over. This makes you become even more empty than they are inside.
You may enjoy the journey at critical points, however, not all of it is as sunny as you ought it to be. You thought you knew what you were doing by committing to yourself instead you’re sat there with no one. You’re only left to dwell in your pit of misery as you work harder and harder towards success to avoid the real underlying issue.
All of this was just a cover-up.
